sorry, Ellie. I shouldn’t tease you.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. But there isn’t anything between the major and me. We’ve been very professional.” My irritation grabbed me again then, and I added, “Not that I suppose it’s really any of your concern.”
He smiled. “No, I suppose it’s not. Except for that I care about you.”
I sighed. “I know you do.”
“You’ve never seemed to realize how beautiful you are,” he said. “But men notice it. I can see the way he watches you when you’re not looking.”
I looked up at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Perhaps you don’t. You’ve never much cared for things like that, but there’s an appreciative glint in his eye that any man would recognize.”
“You’re being silly, Felix.”
“You’re being purposefully obtuse,” he countered.
I didn’t reply to this. There was no good in our going back and forth on the subject.
“All I’m saying is that you should be careful,” Felix went on. “He’s a good-looking fellow. Don’t let him turn your head.”
“You would know about that, wouldn’t you?” I said with a smile.
He laughed. “You flatter me, Ellie. But I’m serious. Be careful. He’s not the type of fellow who…”
“I know,” I said. I knew what he meant. Major Ramsey wasn’t the type of man who was going to have a serious interest in me; the disparities between us were too great. Not that he had displayed any interest whatsoever.
There was, somewhere in the back of my mind, the memory of that kiss we had shared. I knew it meant nothing, was the same thing as a stage kiss between two actors. But if I hadn’t been a smart, practical girl, I might have let my mind run away with me, thinking there had been more to it than that. Felix wasn’t far off the mark when he said I should be careful.
“Thank you,” I said at last, looking for a way to end the conversation. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, Felix, but you don’t need to. I can handle myself.”
“I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to look out for you.”
The door opened then, and we dropped the conversation as Major Ramsey came back into the room.
“Got the samples already?” Felix said, rising. “Well, I’m ready to go to work.” He took off his suit jacket and began rolling up his shirtsleeves.
The major came forward with a stack of letters, tied with twine, and tossed them onto the desk. From where I sat, I could see the bold, feminine handwriting scrawled across the envelopes in dark blue ink.
“Will those do as a sample?” he asked Felix. He didn’t look at me.
Felix nodded. “This ought to be more than sufficient for my purposes.”
Ramsey nodded. “There are paper and pens in the top drawer. Do you need anything else?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll have Davies bring you some.”
“Thanks.”
The major turned then, and went out of the room.
“Where’d he get these letters?” Felix asked.
“I imagine she wrote to him while he was in North Africa,” I said.
“The two of them were involved, then?”
“Yes,” I said, glancing again at the thick stack of letters. “He told me they had ‘seen each other socially’ for a while, but I think it was actually quite serious.”
“I’ll say. I didn’t get half so many letters from you while I was off fighting.”
“I wrote you very often,” I protested. “And you were dreadful about writing back.” One would think a man with such a skilled hand with a pen might be a better correspondent.
He grinned, picking up the stack of letters. “Well, I suppose it’s a lucky thing she wrote faithfully to the major. Let’s see what she had to say, shall we?”
For some reason, I felt a twinge of unease. I was curious, I’ll admit, but I also felt as though it was rather an invasion of privacy. After all, the things one said to a man who was away in the army were likely to be much more heartfelt than the flirtatious letters one sent to casual beaus.
“I … I suppose these are rather personal in nature,” I said.
“Only one way to find out.”
Felix had none of the reservations I did. He pulled the twine from the letters and picked up the first one in the stack, removing it from the envelope. He ran his eyes over the neat lines for a moment and then let out a whistle.
“Doesn’t beat about the bush, our Miss Abbot. Rather hot stuff from